Run Away
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: Revised, reposting, and continuing: Ever wondered what would have happened if the Winchester boys had found Max instead of Hannah? Supernatural fans, even if you aren't a Dark Angel fan you'll probably enjoy this fic!
1. Chapter 1

**Run Away**

***NOTE!! Enjoy at your own risk! I'm probably not going to be writing any more!**

**This is a crossover between Dark Angel and Supernatural. It takes place in March 2009, when Sam and Dean are driving to a hunt, they pass through northwestern Wyoming. Ever wondered what would have happened if the Winchester boys had found Max instead of Hannah? Even if you aren't a Dark Angel fan, you'll probably enjoy this story! **

_March 2009_

Chapter 1:

The vines of the forest grabbed at Max's ankles as she ran, but they were unable to hold her for even the smallest amount of time. The force that her feet propelled her forward with was so strong that she was nearly flying through the darkness of the night. The tears streaming from her eyes barely had time to exist before the wind in her face flew them away. Her path was only lit by the moon, shadows chasing her as she went.

A sob emerged from her throat and put a hitch in her step. Max tripped, falling to the ground, tumbling over herself several times before she came to a stop against a tree. She was unhurt physically, but her heart ached from the loss of her siblings and the fear that she didn't know where she was supposed to run.

When a girl is seven, she should be playing with her Barbie doll and talking to her mom about how boys are icky and begging her dad to get an adorable little puppy for her birthday. When Max was seven she was having military training.

Her parents weren't twisted schizophrenics. No, she didn't have any parents. Not any real ones. She was born and raised in a lab as a soldier. And she'd finally escaped. Not that she knew what she was escaping to. But Zach had told them that they needed to split up. That had been an order. And Zach was the leader. With that, Max wiped the tears angrily from her face, got to her feet, and made her way toward the nearest road.

It was only a few minutes before she reached the road, but she wasn't sure what to do. She stood in the shadows, looking out at the world. She would have to run. Run as fast as she could as far as she could.

The road wasn't a main one, which was good she supposed. After a few minutes, a black car came driving down the road. Max heard music playing loudly, the volume increasing as it came closer. She slowly came out from the shadows. _Trust no one. Suspect everyone._

_ You have escaped from enemy territory. What will you do?_

_ Return to base of operations._

_ What if there is no base?_

The question echoed in Max's head as the glow of headlights bathed her in light. She stood on the side of the road, knowing that Manticore employees probably would have had headlights scanning the forest, trucks instead of regular cars, or something else that she would have picked up on. She would attempt to make an ally.

Zach would say no. Survive on your own. Salvage for food, rob houses, whatever you need to do, but don't risk exposure. Zach had never been in the real world before, though. And Max knew he hadn't been afraid when he'd given them the signal to split up. He was never afraid.

Max was.

The car stopped a few feet after it passed her, the music turning way down. The door opened and a young man slowly got out of the car. She saw the driver lean over to get a better look at her.

_Enemy. Attack. Fight. Get away._

Max's instincts screamed not to trust him, so she didn't. She told herself that she'd use him as an asset, to survive, and that was it. There would be no trust involved.

"Are you all right?" As he approached her, worry on his face, Max backed up, scanning him up and down. He stopped, his shoulders falling a little, and his face softened. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Were you…in an accident? Did you run away from home? What are you doing out here?"

He asked so many questions that she wasn't sure which ones to answer.

"What's your name?" he finally settled on.

She blinked at him. Her mouth opened to say _X5-452_, but she realized that wasn't the name he wanted. He wanted the name the others gave her. "Max," she finally whispered.

"Max. I'm Sam," he said. "Do you need a ride?" Shifting her weight uneasily, she hesitated. "If you want, she can call the police. They can—."

"No police," Max snapped, taking another step back.

Sam blinked at her, surprised. "Alright. Ah…you aren't really dressed for the weather. I'm sure you're cold." Max remained silent, determined not to show weakness to him. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You're soaking wet," he pointed out. She didn't reply. Obviously she knew that, since she'd just hidden under the ice covering a pond to hide from the Manticore employees chasing her. "Look, we aren't just going to leave you out here. You need help."

_Do I?_ The fact that Zach would say she didn't, she shouldn't accept help from someone who could be an enemy, occurred to her again. But then a shiver rippled through her and, as the adrenaline started to fade from her system, Max realized how cold she really was. And she saw Sam swallow anxiously, realizing that he could tell she was reluctant, untrusting, but he didn't want to push her.

That's when they heard the faint sound of a helicopter approaching. Sam looked toward it, eyes narrowed, surely spotting the searchlight, and looked back to Max, raising his eyebrows. "Looks to me like you need to get out of here," he said softly.

Forcing herself to make a decision, Max walked quickly forward toward the car.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

They stopped at a motel once they'd crossed the border into Idaho, the neon red _Vacancy_ sign gleaming off the building's windows. The driver of the Impala, who Max had learned was called Dean, turned around to her. "I'm gonna go get a room. I'm just gonna tell them it's me and my brother. Alright?"

"I should leave," Max told him quietly, though she still clutched the blanket that was wrapped around her.

Dean glanced to Sam, unsure.

"Max, you're still on the run from…whoever," Sam said to her. "You don't have to tell us what's going on if you don't want to, but at least let us help you."

"Why would you want to help me?" she asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Honestly? Cause that's what we do. And we do it pretty well," Sam murmured.

Max stared at him. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Sam stared back at her, as if not sure what to say. She wasn't sure why. It was a very straightforward question.

"Granted," Dean said softly.

"I don't know you. And I don't trust you," Max told them.

"We don't expect you to trust us," Dean replied. "I'll give you a weapon if it'll make you feel safer. A knife or something. I mean you're a young girl staying with two guys you don't know. If I was in your position, I wouldn't trust us either."

Max hesitated. "I reserve the right to leave when I want to. No questions asked."

"Of course," Sam said, and Dean nodded in agreement.

Averting her gaze, Max nodded in return. "All right."

Dean got a room and she walked inside with them, scanning it for exits, weapons, anything suspicious.

"Max," Sam said, putting his bag on the bed and opening it.

Max turned to him. "Yes sir?"

Sam looked over and blinked at her again before reaching into his bag and taking something out. "Uh…you can take the shower first if you want. Your clothes aren't completely dry, so I'll give you one of my shirts to wear. We can get you some clothes and stuff from a thrift store tomorrow," he said, handing her the shirt he was holding. His voice was quiet-like, almost like he was afraid he was going to scare her away.

Max carefully took it from him. "I don't have any money, sir. I'll have to acquire funds first."

"_We_ can buy the clothes, Max," Sam said slowly.

Max did some more staring, her expression indecipherable, before she nodded and walked into the bathroom, closing the door. She counted to ten before she turned on the shower, then walked over to the door and sat down, closing her eyes. The boys waited a few seconds before they started talking.

"So what's with her?" Dean asked. Max realized that it wasn't a unkind statement though. It sounded almost worried.

"I have no idea," Sam said with a sigh. "I mean the clothes she's in aren't typical PJ's. She's a girl and she has a military buzz cut."

"Forget her appearance, Sam. I'm talking about her attitude," Dean responded. "She walks, talks, acts like a soldier."

Max narrowed her eyes, confused, as she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. That's what she was. Why would she act like anything else? Of course, they didn't know that was what she was. And if they were so baffled by the fact that she was a soldier, Max realized that Zach must have been right. There was something else outside the fence. Outside their world. Maybe Ben had been right. Maybe there was a place out there, the Good Place. But then did that mean there was a Bad Place too?

If the two boys were surprised at her behavior, Max knew that meant she wouldn't blend in. And evading capture depended on blending in. So that meant she had to mimic Sam and Dean's behavior so she could be like everyone else. Of course, she had to act like a girl, so she couldn't mimic their behavior exactly. Just vaguely. She would have to pay attention to others when they went out. Mimic them.

"But how could she have gotten that kind of training?" Sam asked, jarring Max from her thoughts. "You think some Marine-gone-psycho had her as a daughter and trained her from day one?"

"That's one idea, but you think he'd have his own personal helo' to go chasing after her in?"

"True. And the tattoo on the back of her neck."

"Yea, I noticed that too," Dean muttered. "Who the hell barcodes a kid? Like she's a thing instead of a person?"

"I don't know. A little Auschwitz if you ask me."

With a sharp, worried breath, Max looked down to her hands, realizing they'd started shaking. _Oh no._ That was one thing she had been worried about. Getting the shakes. In Manticore, they gave could give them shots of tryptophan and most of the time it would help. But outside she wasn't sure where to get it.

The shakes started to spread through Max's body and she stumbled slightly, falling into the wall.

"Max? You okay?" Sam asked.

Fear came then. She knew she couldn't let them know what was wrong with her. They wouldn't want to help her if she was trouble.

"Fine, sir," Max said as firmly as she could. Her voice was shaky though and not as hard as she'd wanted it to be. But all she had to do was wait it out. It would stop eventually.

Max sat down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging them to her chest as she shivered. She heard footsteps approach and stop outside the door and she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on stopping the shakes. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest, much less hear her shaking.

"Max…can I come in?" He took her hesitation as a yes, apparently, and opened the door. She shut her eyes, unsure of what he'd do. "Oh God, Max, come here." He leaned forward and picked her up gently in his arms as she shook. She hated that she was so helpless to someone that she barely knew and could turn on her. But she had the shakes; she wasn't in any condition to fight back.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, instantly by Sam's side. "Is she having a seizure?"

"No," she managed to choke out. "Sh-Shakes."

"Shakes," Sam repeated, sitting down on the bed with her in his arms. "Do you have a condition? Were you given any drugs that could cause this?"

"N-No."

"Is there medication that could help?"

"Tryp-Trypto…phan," she told him.

"Tryptophan?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

"What? What is that?" Dean asked.

"It's just…an amino acid. You have a deficiency?" Sam asked her.

Max looked up at him and he made out her nod through the shaking.

"God that's weird. Okay." He looked up to Dean. "That's easy. You can get supplements at any pharmacy."

"Tryptophan. Got it," Dean said. He grabbed his jacket, putting it on and taking out his keys before he was out the door.

Max closed her eyes as she shook, trying to pretend that it was Zach holding her instead of Sam. She kept herself calm with the fact that he didn't seem to want to hurt her. He wouldn't be helping her if he did. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"How long does this last?" Sam asked quietly.

"D-Depends," she stammered.

"Okay. Well I'm not going anywhere," he told her, tightening his grip the slightest bit.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Max tried to relax, since tensing up only made the shakes worse. After a few minutes the shaking started to subside. Another few minutes and it had gone completely. She pretended that she'd passed out, since she didn't want Sam to let her go, but didn't want him to know that.

After a minute or so, he did get up and put her on the bed, laying her head on the pillow, and put a blanket over her before he sat on the other bed. He got up a minute later, walking across the room, and came back. From the sounds, she deduced that he was reading a book.

About half an hour later, there were sounds of a key in the lock and Max's eyes flashed open as she bolted upright, adrenaline released into her bloodstream as she looked and found no weapon.

"Max, it's okay, it's just Dean," Sam said quickly, putting his book down.

Dean walked in, glancing at her as he locked the door. "You okay?" he asked, bringing over a plastic bag.

Max stared at him evenly. "You told me you would give me a weapon."

Dean nodded. "One sec." He reached into the bag, taking out the bottle of pills. He looked it over. "You know how much you need to take?" he asked, looking back to her.

Max held out her hand for the bottle and he handed it to her. "A hundred milligrams should be enough," she said. She took off the plastic wrapper and tried to open it, but couldn't.

"Kid-proof. Let me," Sam said, holding out his hand. Dean walked over to his gym bag, opening it up.

Max watched Sam open the container, so she could next time, and he handed her two pills. She downed them dry.

"How often should you take them?" Sam asked, closing the bottle and putting it on the dresser.

"Probably twice a day," she responded.

"Will this work?" Dean asked, taking a knife out of a sheath and handing both it and the sheath to her.

Max examined the sheath and bowie knife with military precision before nodding and sheathing it. She looked back up to him. "As I said before, I don't have any source of funds at the moment. Once I acquire funds I can—."

"Max, Max, Max," Dean said gently, as if to calm her down. His tone confused her, since she was completely calm. "You don't have to pay me back. It's…a gift."

Max looked at him intensely. "Why?"

"Why did I…give you a gift?" Dean asked, clearly unsure of the answer since the question itself caught him off-balance. "What do you mean?"

Max's eyes drifted down to the knife, then back to Dean. "Why would you transfer something to me without the need for compensation?"

Sam looked to Dean as well and felt his heart go out to him at the look on his face. He had been thrown suddenly into this situation of explaining things that already made sense to him, that he'd always known and didn't know how to clarify to someone else. And since Dean knew many different ways to raise kids, had been exposed to two of them, and now three with Max's world, he just didn't know what to do.

"Max…you want to know why he gave you that knife?" Sam asked her softly. She looked up. "Because with your small hands it is one of the more effective ways of protecting yourself. Keeping you safe is our main objective. And the compensation we get for that is feeling good about having helped someone stay safe and out of danger. You understand?"

"Yes sir," she whispered instantly.

"Max," he said, gently resting his big paw on her shoulder. She forced herself not to flinch. She guessed he took that as a good sign, because he sat next to her. "I want you to understand something. When you address someone as 'sir', you are showing them respect, correct?" She nodded. "So if that's why you do it, then you need to rethink your approach."

Max narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Calling me and Dean 'sir' is all right on occasion, and it's necessary in the military while talking to superiors. But when we're just friends hanging out, it helps develop a bond of friendship between us if you can call me…Sam."

Max blinked at him slowly. "Yes, Sam," she said quietly. She got up, letting his hand slip from her shoulder, and went into the bathroom.

She emerged five minutes later, dressed in the same clothes, but cleaner. Sam and Dean were sitting across from each other on the beds. She stopped a few feet away, at attention, unsure of where she was going to sleep, even whether they were going to let her stay there overnight.

"Max—," Sam started.

"At ease, soldier," Dean interrupted.

Max moved her left foot about six inches to the left and clasped her hands behind her back, looking to Dean. Obviously he had had training as a soldier as well. He knew military commands. _Does that mean that everyone knows military commands? _She was very confused, but willing to take her time learning. At least now she knew what to do. As long as someone gave orders, she wasn't completely lost.

But to her confusion, Dean looked resigned. "Max, where'd you learn that?" Dean asked softly.

"Training, sir," she replied.

"You can call me Dean," he said. She nodded in understanding. "Training where?" Max hesitated. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Do you want to tell us, Max?" Dean asked.

She swallowed, then nodded.

"Are you not supposed to tell us?" Dean asked, his voice still soft.

She nodded again.

"Okay. How about you sit down?" he asked, patting the bed beside him. Max slowly left her At Ease stance and carefully walked over, sitting down beside him. "Well here's the thing," Dean said. "You escaped from wherever you were because you didn't like it there, right?" She nodded once again. "Whoever used to give you orders, they aren't here right now. You're with us. So if you want to tell us, nobody's going to get angry at you or stop you."

Max stared at him, examining his expression for a few moments before she spoke. "It's called Manticore," she said quietly. "It's a facility. The others and I escaped. I don't…I don't know how many of the others made it, though."

"And how many of you were there?" Dean asked.

"Sixteen."

Dean swallowed, glancing to Sam, then back to me. "Alright. And why the barcode tattoo?"

"It identifies me," she told him. "My unit is the X5's. I'm X5-452 because the three last digits of the barcode are 452. My full number is 332960073452."

"Jesus," Sam whispered, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his legs. He ran his hands over his face before looking back up to her. "You were raised in his facility?"

"I was born there," she said. "I don't know how they made me." Max let out a long breath, trying to loosen the tightness in her chest from the feeling she was getting from speaking about classified information to outsiders. "The escape wasn't my idea. It was Zach's. I mean…we didn't even…know what we were escaping to. Ben talked about the Good Place, but—."

"The Good Place?" Sam asked.

"Where…nobody ever gets yelled at," Max whispered, looking down to her hands. "And nobody gets punished. And nobody disappears."

"Disappears?" Sam echoed again.

"It's one of the reasons Zach told us we were going to escape. There's something wrong with some of us. Some of us get the shakes. Like me. When Jack got the shakes really bad, the guards took him away. We never saw him again."

The two young men were silent for a few moments before Dean spoke up again. "So you're an X5. Were there X1's and X2's first?"

Max nodded slowly. "They're nomlies."

"Anomalies?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

She blinked, confused. "We call them nomlies. They live in the Bad Place," she whispered.

Sam stared at her. "What's the Bad Place?"

"The Bad Place is…where bad soldiers go," she said quietly. "It's where…they open you up…and drink your blood until you're almost dead. Then they leave you there…for the nomlies. The nomlies keep you as a prisoner of war and eat you up little by little. Forever."

Sam swallowed, staring at the ground. She was worried he was starting to get angry at her. "Who told you that?" Sam asked.

"X5-493. Ben. He knew things like that," she said.

"Have you ever seen a nomlie?" Dean asked.

Max nodded. "They keep them down in the basement. They're all monsters."

Dean sighed. "We know a little about monsters," he murmured.

"So…you know about nomlies?" she asked.

"No. I don't think I've ever seen a nomlie," Dean told her. "See…from what you call them, nomlies, I think that they were experiments. Like you. Born in a lab, raised there, but when they went wrong, when they turned out ugly, they were sent down to the basement. That's my theory anyway. Out here we have monsters too, but not many people know they're out there. Because they're too scared to admit there's dangerous stuff out there that can't be hurt just by a bullet or a solid kick to the stomach. So a handful of people who know about monsters help people that get hurt by them. That's what me and Sam do."

Max nodded slowly. "Okay." She looked up to Dean. "That's why you know military etiquette? Because you're fighting a war against the monsters?"

"No. My dad was a Marine. He fought in wars and when he came back he taught me and my brother."

Max swallowed, shifting her position on the bed. "So…children don't get training out here growing up?"

Dean gazed at Max for a long moment silently before answering. "No, Max. They don't."

"Can you tell me…what children usually do? What it's like outside Manticore?"

Dean nodded. "Sure."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"So did you ever hear rumors about something like this, Bobby?" Sam asked, scanning the parking lot as he paced in front of the motel. He glanced at his watch, which read 4:35 AM. Dean and Max were sleeping in the motel room, and he had wanted to talk to Bobby on his own.

_"Nope. But it has nothin' to do with the supernatural. Why'd you think I'da heard about it?"_

"I don't know. I'm just trying to reach out to see if anyone had noticed something strange in Northeastern Wyoming."

_"Nothin' comes to mind. But if I hear you right, it sounds like these are government types that keep to themselves. Keep under the radar big time. Now that I think about it, you guys are perfect for this girl to stay with. You constantly move around and you can understand what she went through a bit."_

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Bobby, dad was nothing _close _to that harsh with us," he said, anger tingeing his voice.

"_That's not what I meant, Sam_," Bobby said gently. "_I meant the military stuff. Dean picked up on the fact that when he told her to be at ease that that was somethin' she understood. It was somethin' she's familiar with that made her less on-edge. If this was how she was raised, then she understands orders. It's how she lives her life. Or how she used to live it. You're going to have to breed that out of her slowly. Let her understand that she can relax sometimes. You don't want to let her get sloppy, she's always gonna have that knowledge of bein' a soldier, but it's not good for her to have a fear of lettin' you know she's hurtin' or injured because she thinks you'll abandon her or, like the guards at Manticore, kill her. She needs to learn to be able to trust you._"

"Yea, I know," Sam sighed, continuing to pace. "I just…I don't know how much she really needs our help. Surviving, at least. So I'm worried she might think she doesn't need any help at all and take off. I mean you should see her, Bobby. This girl is nine years old and the only reason I can hold my own against her is her size."

"_She's that good at hand-to-hand combat?_"

"Not just hand-to-hand. Everything. She told us what she's trained in, and I don't doubt that she's telling the truth. She can throw a knife and hit a bulls-eye from twenty feet. She's well trained in military hand signals and phonetics. Her strength, speed, coordination, eyesight, and hearing are all magnified," Sam continued, ticking off each point on his fingers. "She's trained as a field medic. She can hold her breath underwater for minutes at a time. She's basically got a photographic memory. She can do things with a computer that I'm clueless about. Plus, she's got at least a genius IQ, and she uses it. She is, by definition, a super-soldier."

Bobby let out a long breath. "_Jesus_."

"Yea, that's what I said. And also…well…she can take apart and put back together basically any weapon. I mean Dean put his gun down in front of her and…she was as familiar with it as he is."

"_But…?_" Bobby asked knowingly.

"But…she wasn't happy about it. I could tell. She looked at it hard for a second, disassembled it, put it back together, and then…sat back as if it had been on fire. So…I asked."

Bobby was silent for a long moment. "_And…?_" he coaxed quietly.

"She just said…she doesn't like guns."

Bobby sighed. "_All right, boy. If you need a place to hide out, you know you can crash at the junkyard_."

"Yea, I know, Bobby. We're in Idaho, so we aren't too far from your place. If we need to, we'll come. For now…we'll get Max some new clothes from a thrift store. She'll need an identity. Social security number and birth certificate."

"_That part's gonna be expensive_," Bobby told him.

"Doesn't matter. We'll pay for it. If she doesn't disappear completely, Manticore will find her. She'll be our niece once removed or…something. She has to have a solid identity that won't be glanced at twice."

"_Well as a relative to you guys, that's going to be glanced at twice all on its own_," Bobby reminded him.

"Yea, well I'll talk to Dean about details tomorrow. Hey…maybe we could get her…some toys or…something…?"

"_I doubt she knows what a toy is, Sam_," Bobby said with a grim smile.

"Okay," Sam said with another sigh. "Well, maybe we can try to get her to have some fun. The last nine years of her life have been Hell. Maybe now…she can actually live."

"_The important thing is that she can be introduced into the real world_," Bobby said. "_The one where there are good people_."

"Good people…. Yea, I think she's going to have a hard time believing there actually are good people out there. Or even just letting herself trust me and Dean, after what she's been through." Sam shook his head, pursing his lips angrily. "My God, some of the things they did to her in that place…." Sam let out a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair. "She's got an ability to heal at an accelerated rate. You know how they'd test that?" Sam snapped.

Bobby was stunned into silence for a moment. "_Oh, Sam, no—_," he started in a whisper.

"They'd strap her _down_, break her _bones_, and watch them _heal_," Sam snarled.

Bobby flinched before he closed his eyes, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"They'd cuff their ankles with handcuffs to the bottom of a pool and fill it up and wait four minutes before draining it. Testing how long they can hold their _breath_! They are to receive no affection from _anyone_. It's considered a sign of _weakness_. God, Bobby, how does someone do something like that to any living creature, much less a kid? Much less a nine year old girl?" Sam growled through gnashed teeth, clenching the cell phone tightly in his hand.

"_Take it easy, son_," Bobby told him, standing up and starting to pace. "_Building up that anger's gonna do you no good. All it's gonna do is make you a powder keg, and you have to keep your cool, especially now, especially for Max._"

Sam forced himself to let out a long breath, then took in and let out another, and nodded. "You're right."

"_Of course I'm right_."

"Of course you're right," Sam repeated.

"_Listen, Sam, this kid's had a hard life so far, and we've got to take that into account. In more ways than one_."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"_Well, with what she's been through, and definitely who's still after her, she needs to keep her skills up_."

"The only way she'll go back to Manticore is over my dead body, so don't worry about that. But she can just train with me and Dean. Keep up what she knows. That won't be hard. She knows Manticore is still after her and we'll stay on top of that."

"_Well it seems like, in level of difficulty, we've got the Normal World, A Hunter's World, and Max's World_," Bobby said. "_So we want to at least try to bring her somewhere closer to a hunter's than Max's._"

Sam nodded, sighing. "We're gonna try," he murmured.

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As Sam hung up the phone, Max allowed herself a small smile before she walked from the door over to the bed, getting back under the covers, and closed her eyes. She had an ally.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry I forgot to post yesterday. And **_**not for lack**_**, thanks for the inspiration on this one. *wink***

Chapter 5:

At exactly 6:00 AM, Max's internal alarm clock went off and she got up. She was unsure of what to do, so she started making the bed.

"Max?" Sam whispered.

She stopped and looked over to him. "Yes, Sam?"

He ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes for a second before looking back to her. "What are you doing? What time is it?"

"0600," she replied.

Sam sighed and sat up in the chair he was sleeping in, stretching. "Ah…you might be used to getting up this early, but Dean and I usually get up at about…1000 or 1100. Usually checkout is about 1100 or 1200."

Max blinked. "Oh. So…what should I do?"

He sighed. "Ah…if you can't fall back to sleep, you can read I guess," he said, picking up a book beside him. "I've been reading this. It's pretty interesting. To me at least." He held it out to her and she came and got it, looking at the cover.

"Thank you."

"You can read in the bathroom so you can have light." He smiled at her. "That way I can catch a couple more hours of sleep."

Max nodded and went into the bathroom, closing the door.

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An hour later Max finished the book and sat on the floor for about fifteen minutes before she realized she was getting hungry. Without funds, she would need to either appropriate some or steal some food. She considered taking Sam or Dean's wallet, but she did not want to alienate her only allies. Not wanting to wake Sam up again, since he had said he woke up about four to five hours after she usually did, she slipped out of the room silently.

Max looked around and saw that down the street was a diner. She walked down to it and went inside, drawing eyes to her. Suddenly, she realized it might not be a great idea. Until her hair got long enough to cover her barcode, she would be conspicuous. And she wasn't sure how much manpower Manticore was dedicating to the search for the X5's that had broken out, but she was pretty sure it was a lot.

Max turned around and left the diner, considering what else she could do. If there was a store nearby, she could steal some food from there. The thing was if she got caught, it wouldn't be hard for her to get out of the situation, but a call might go in to authorities.

Suddenly, Max heard her name being called and she turned around, ready for a confrontation. She saw Sam jogging toward her and her pose relaxed slightly. He slowed down as he approached her. "Max, what are you doing?"

"I finished your book. I was hungry," she said, staring up at him. "Am I in trouble?"

Sam blinked. "No. No, of course not. Just…next time, tell me when you're hungry, okay?"

"You were asleep. You said you didn't wake up until at least 1000 hours."

"Doesn't mean I want you going off on your own, kiddo."

Max blinked at him. "What's a kiddo?"

Sam's mouth opened slightly, then closed, and he scratched the back of his head. "Just…kid. Um…I'd prefer if you stay in the motel room until we can get you some regular clothes and…maybe get your tattoo removed. I mean it might be painful, but it would really decrease exposure risk."

"That sounds like a good idea, Sam," she told him quietly.

Sam sighed. "Okay. Back to the motel," he said with a nod.

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Dean was up, though still in his underwear, pacing, when they got back. "She just wanted to get something to eat," Sam explained.

Dean nodded. "Okay." He looked to her. "You get why it's risky to do that, right?"

"Yes sir," Max said, looking down to the ground.

Dean sighed in exasperation and turned to Sam. "I'm going back to bed."

"Alright. I'm going to head over to the gas station down the street, get her a snack. I'll be back soon."

"Ya," Dean muttered, walking the few steps back to his bed, getting under the covers.

"Max, lock the door behind me," Sam told her. She nodded and Sam turned and left the room, closing the door behind himself. She locked it before walking over to the table, sitting down, folding her hands, and looked to Dean.

Max stared at him for about ten seconds before he slowly turned over in his bed, looking over to her. "Yea?" he grunted.

"I didn't say anything," she told him.

"You're staring at me," he said, blinking slowly.

"Sorry," she said, turning her head back to her hands.

Dean let out a sigh. "You don't have to be sorry, kid; it's just a little unnerving having eyes on my back while I'm sleeping," he murmured before turning over in his bed, pulling up the covers.

Max sat in the chair, staring at her hands, for about twenty minutes before Sam came back. He motioned her outside and she went, closing the door behind herself. "I want to let Dean sleep," Sam said. "You can eat out here."

He handed her a paper bag and they both sat on the curb. She took out what was in the bag, finding a plastic bag of chips, a soda, and a package of candy.

"I…don't know how to open these," she said quietly.

"Oh, sorry," Sam said, taking the food from her and opening the soda and chips, handing them back.

Max looked into the bag, taking out a chip, and examined it before carefully placing it in her mouth and crunching down, chewing, then swallowing. Her eyes widened at the taste and she took another one quickly.

Once she'd finished the chips and soda, she looked up to Sam, who was smiling at her, though his smile was a bit sad. "What?" she asked.

"You've never had Doritos or Coke before, have you?" he asked. Max shook her head. "Here, have this. It's a Hershey's chocolate." Sam opened up the package and handed her the candy bar.

Max bit off a piece, chewing gradually to savor the taste, then swallowed, looking up to him. "This tastes good too," she said.

"Glad you think so," Sam said.

Max ate the candy bar, and then glanced around the parking lot. Sam and she sat in silence for a few minutes before she spoke up. "We didn't come up with a plan to rendezvous. Before we left."

"You didn't know where you were going. What you were escaping to. You couldn't."

"I wish we could have," she whispered. "I wish I could know how many of the others made it. _If_ any of the others made it."

"If any of them are as strong as you, I have no doubt they did," Sam told her. Max swallowed, clasping her hands in her lap. "I'd have some fellow hunters check out if any local police got word of sightings of them, but chances are Lydecker has people a lot higher up than we do. He'll get there first and he might even be able to trace it back to us."

"I know." Max hesitated. "You said you wanted to get me some toys?"

Sam blinked. "You heard me on the phone with Bobby?"

She nodded, looking up to him. "Who's Bobby?"

"He's a good friend," Sam said with a smile. "We've known him since we were kids."

"You sounded…very angry when you were talking to him," she whispered.

Sam's smile faded. "I wasn't angry with you, Max," he told her. "I was angry with the people who kept you locked up in that horrible place."

"It's all I've ever known," she told him. "It's all that makes sense to me."

"But you escaped. You left," Sam pointed out. "So you didn't like it there."

Max shook her head. "No. I didn't like it there."

"Well, I hope that maybe Dean and I can help you enjoy life a little now. I mean Dean told you a little about the outside world, but you've got a lot to learn. You've got to remember that you can't wander off from us. Especially dressed the way you are and with your tattoo. You'll stand out. First thing when Dean wakes up, we'll get you some new clothes though."

"You said I could get my tattoo removed?" Max asked.

Sam nodded. "Yea. It'll hurt, but it's probably our best move."

"I don't care if it hurts," she said. "I'm used to pain."

Sam swallowed tightly. "Just because you're used to pain, doesn't mean that you should be hurt," he said softly. "What those people did to you, the way they treated you, it was wrong. Do you understand that, Max?"

She looked down to her hands, then back up to him, shaking her head. "I don't think so."

"Living creatures, people especially, don't deserve to be hurt. Now that you aren't in Manticore anymore, I'd like you to try to remember that. Everyone deserves to have a happy life. There are bad things out there, and sometimes you have to defend yourself, but you shouldn't have to always be scared."

Max didn't fully comprehend what he was telling her, but she nodded in response anyway. "Okay, Sam," she whispered.

"You want to use my laptop?" Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow. "You can go on the web, do some research on the real world. Then you can talk to me about what you found later. Should keep you busy for a while."

Max looked up to him and nodded. "Yes. I would."

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"Research on what?" Dean asked, coming out of the bathroom and tossing his toothbrush and toothpaste into his duffle.

"On everything and anything she didn't know about the world outside Manticore," Sam said, going into the bathroom for his turn at the sink. He put some toothpaste on his toothbrush. "She's been busy for the last couple hours. I recommended Wikipedia as a good jumping off point."

Dean looked over to Max, who was sitting on her cot with the laptop. She looked very engrossed in what she was researching, but somehow he had a feeling that if he flung his duffle at her she would swiftly knock it away before it had a chance to strike her. "Whatcha up to?" he asked, going over to the laptop. "Got to the Brady Bunch yet?"

Max slid her eyes up to his. "What's a Brady Bunch?"

Dean blinked. "Nothin'. Never mind. Anything you're finding interesting?"

Max looked back to her screen. "Pornography is an interesting, controversial subject."

Sam choked on the water he was gurgling, attempting to spit it out mostly in the sink, as Dean stared at Max, flabbergasted at the response.

"It's the depiction of explicit sexual subject matter for the purpose of sexually exciting the viewer," Max recited from memory as Dean quickly went to her side and looked at the screen she'd been researching.

"Shit, Max!" Dean exclaimed, taking the laptop from her and swiftly closing the screen.

Max instantly sprung up off the cot, putting distance between the two of them and falling into a relaxed stance, her eyes wide but tight, her gaze wary.

Dean's expression softened, detecting a bit of fear in her expression as well, as Sam emerged from the bathroom. "_What_ did she just say?" Sam asked, going over to Dean's side.

"Max, it's okay, you're not in trouble," Dean told her.

Sam looked to Max, who was eyeing Dean and Sam uneasily, and forced his tight shoulders to relax as well. "It's okay. It's not your fault," he told her. Sam grabbed the laptop from his brother's hands with an intense glare. "It's Dean's."

"Wh…? How is this my fault?" Dean exclaimed as Sam put his laptop back in his backpack. "You're the one who gave her free rein on the web!"

"And how do you think she stumbled upon a porn website, Dean?" Sam asked with an intense glare. "With all the bookmarks I'vecollected over the years?"

"You know it's not that big a deal," he snapped. "She's learning about the real world. She said it's an interesting, _controversial _topic. You don't think she's mature enough to understand it?"

"Not my point." Sam went back into the bathroom, grabbing his things.

Dean shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Holy crap, we're raising a kid," he muttered. He looked over to Max, who was still staring at him, and let out a long breath. "A girl kid." He shook his head again. "Okay, grab your stuff, Max. We'll…talk about it in the car."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Later that day, Dean went to get Max some clothes from a thrift store. He got a shirt he called a turtleneck so it would cover her tattoo and some denim pants as well as some socks and shoes. He also went to a regular store to get some underwear, since he told her that she definitely was not going to be wearing thrift store underwear.

"But if we want it off quickly, they we'll have to get surgery," she heard Sam say from the motel room. "There are some creams and stuff, but they really don't work. If we want to get it done in one shot, we need to do the surgery."

"But we'll want it done by a certified doctor," Dean told him. "And I'm sure Manticore is checking places that do this to see if any of them are having barcodes removed."

"I know, I know, but we're not going to go to some guy who does it out of his garage!"

"I'm not saying we do that! I'm saying that we could just cover it up instead."

"With what? It's going to take months for her to get her hair grown in. And we can't cover it up with clothes in the summer."

Dean paused. "Skin."

Sam hesitated. "Skin? What are you talking about?"

"We go to a costume shop and we get a flap of fake skin that we can put on that'll stay there. As long as it's thin enough and matches her skin tone, it'll be fine."

Sam sighed and thought for a few seconds. "Okay, that's actually a good idea."

Max exited the bathroom, walking into the motel room, and the two boys looked over and smiled. "Hey, looking good," Dean said.

"Do they fit well enough?" Sam asked.

"They're slightly loose," she replied.

He came over and knelt down, looking her over once. "Looks good to me."

"Will I blend in?" she asked.

Sam and Dean both nodded. "Yea," Sam replied, standing up. "We'll drive a few more hours and go to another thrift store. You can pick out some more clothes and maybe…some toys or something."

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After they'd gotten the tattoo thing taken care of, Dean's idea being the one they went with, they were driving to the nearest thrift store when Dean pulled into a parking lot.

"What are we doing?" Max asked, looking around.

"This…is a park," Dean said with a smile as he parked. He turned the car off and turned around to look at her. "Ever play on a playground?"

"No."

"Well I think you should. Come on."

Narrowing her eyes curiously, Max got out of the car and followed Sam and Dean into the park. They sat down on a bench near the playground and she looked at it for a few seconds before turning back to them. "Is it an obstacle course?"

Sam and Dean glanced to each other before Sam looked back to her. "No, Max, it's just to play," he said gently. "There are some other kids on the playground. Just mimic what they're—."

Just then, Max felt someone grab her arm. Narrowing her eyes, she turned, twisting the arm, and shoved her attacker away, falling into an instinctive fighting stance. The thing was, it wasn't an attacker. It was a girl about her age that fell to the ground, stared at her in shock for a few seconds, and then burst into tears.

"Mommy!" she wailed. Max took a few steps backwards toward Sam, wide-eyed in surprise, as her mother came running over and Sam leapt up, coming to Max's side.

"What is wrong with your kid?" the girl's mother exclaimed at Sam and Dean before taking her daughter's hand and walking back to the two other mothers she was with.

Sam and Dean were silent, in mild shock Max supposed, for a few seconds before Sam turned to her. "You okay?" he asked quietly. "I'm sorry, I should have seen that coming."

Max didn't answer. She just stared at the girl who held on tightly to her mother's hand, crying. "Sam?" she asked quietly. "Is there…something wrong with me?"

Sam crouched down to her level. "Max, look at me." Max forced her gaze over to meet his. "There is _nothing_…wrong with you. You're just different. You believe me?" he asked. She swallowed hard and nodded. "Come on." Sam held out his hand and she took it, walking with him over to the mother and child.

"Hi, I'm sorry about what just happened," Sam said to the woman, who was glaring them. He noticed that the other two mothers were glaring at them too. Max looked down at her feet at the scrutiny. "She's a little on edge. It's hard to explain, but she hasn't had that much experience playing with other children. Think maybe we could give it another try? I'm Sam and this is Max, my niece."

Max was staring at her feet to avoid looking up at the woman, and was surprised when she said, "I'm Christine, and this is Emily. Emily's eight. Janie and Whitney are on the playground over there, they're eight too. How old is Max?"

"Nine," Sam replied with a smile. He turned to her and crouched down. "You want to go play with Emily?" Max looked to him, swallowing, and nodded slowly. Sam turned to the other girl. "Emily, you come here often?"

Emily wiped the tears from her eyes and looked to Sam, then nodded. "Uh huh," she said.

"You think maybe you could show Max the playground? She's never been here before."

Emily looked up to her mother, who nodded to her, before walking over to Max and carefully taking her hand. "Come on, we can play on the swings," she said softly, pulling her in the direction of the playground. Max followed her over to the swings and followed her lead, getting on and pumping her legs to move herself back and forth.

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"I don't mean to pry, but…was she abused?" Christine asked, turning to Sam as he sat on the bench beside her.

Sam sighed softly, staring at Max. "Yea," he murmured. "It's been…hard for her. It's a long story."

"Sorry I snapped," Christine said with a shrug. "I just saw her push Emily and…well, you know."

Sam smiled, turning to Christine. "Yea, I know."

"This is Margaret and Nancy," Christine said, motioning to the two women sitting on the bench adjacent to them.

"Nice to meet you," Sam said. "That's my brother Dean over there." He motioned to Dean, who got up and walked over.

"Dean. Nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.

Christine shook it. "Likewise. Do you live around here?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. Just in town for a day or so. Road trip."

Christina nodded and looked over to the playground, where Max and Emily were swinging and stared for a few seconds. "She looks like she's having fun," she murmured.

Sam looked over to Max and smiled. "Yea. She does." He looked back to Christine. "Thanks."

She glanced back to him. "No problem."

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Max stopped pumping, slowly coming to a stop, and Emily put her feet down as well. "Why'd you stop?" she asked, cocking her head.

Max looked over to her. "I'm sorry I pushed you."

Emily gave her a half-smile. "It's okay. I kinda snuck up on you." She stared at her for a few seconds. "Why's your hair so short?"

"Just the way my parents kept it," she responded with a shrug.

"Are those your parents?" Emily asked, looking to Sam and Dean. "My mommy told me that sometimes kids have two mommies or two daddies. And that some people think that's bad, but that they just haven't gotten used to it yet. Like a black person marrying a white person. There's…a special word for that. Something with the word 'race' in it."

"Interracial?" Max asked.

Emily blinked at her. "You're smart."

"Thanks," she murmured. "Sam and Dean are my uncles," she recited. "My mom died when I was three from cancer and my dad's in prison."

Emily's eyes widened. "What'd he do?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"I don't really like to talk about it," Max said, her voice equally hushed.

"Okay," Emily replied. She paused. "So do you live here?"

"No. I'm just visiting."

"So you don't have any friends here?"

"No."

"Well, you want to be friends?"

Max hesitated. "Sure. Do I have to do anything?"

Emily shook her head. "No. We're just nice to each other and play together a lot."

"I'm probably leaving soon though," Max told her.

Her face fell. "Oh. Well then we can be friends for now."

"Okay," she murmured. Max pushed herself back and then swung forward, starting to swing again, and Emily joined her.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

"Who's Ellen?" Max asked.

Dean, Sam and Max were driving in the car and, about ten minutes into the trip, they explained to her that they had made a call to a friend of theirs, Ellen Harvelle, and that they would be paying her a visit.

"She runs a bar in Nebraska," Sam replied. "It's frequented by hunters, which is how our dad met her, which is how we met her. She has a daughter, Jo, who's twenty-something. As far as we know, Jo no longer lives with or even speaks to her mother. Ellen said she's got some old clothes of Jo's and toys and books and stuff. She said it's packed away in boxes in her attic and that she'd pretty much forgotten about it and that we're welcome to it."

"Oh. Okay," Max said quietly.

When they were in the car, Sam and Dean would mostly stay silent, but every once in a while one of them would say something that would spark a conversation. Max wasn't sure what to say, though. She had very little knowledge about things they talked about, which usually included hunting or current events. The only thing she knew was how to be a soldier. And that was the whole point of her existence.

So how was she supposed to live in the normal world? The only thing that came to Max's mind was that she had to exist in it as best she could and learn as much as possible along the way. Listen in on conversations, watch the news, and learn about the world outside Manticore. Being a soldier might have been the only thing she was good at, but it didn't have to be her whole life anymore. It couldn't. That was why she'd left Manticore; she wasn't going to let it be her entire life outside as well. Especially if there was more to life than just being a soldier. It would always be a part of her, the foundation of who she was, but now she wanted more.

It was about seven hours later that they arrived at the Roadhouse. They parked and got out, Dean taking a second to ensure that the Impala was locked. It was about eight at night and the world looked huge in every direction. It looked terrifying. And out from it, Sam offered Max his hand. She took it tightly.

Dean walked in first, followed by her and Sam. Max had her skin patch on, as well as a turtleneck, so there wasn't any chance someone could see her tattoo. But a girl with a military haircut still stood out, so they needed to keep their guard up constantly. Even in the company of friends.

_Are these friends?_

Sam had told Max that most of the patrons that came to the Roadhouse were hunters and therefore could usually be counted on to be allies. As Max looked around at the patrons at the bar, it seemed that most had turned to see who had walked in, and most of those seemed not to be content with whom they saw. Either they went back to doing whatever it was they'd been doing or they continued to glare at them, as if to glare then all the way back outside.

Not one to be intimidated, Max glared back. She'd been told she gave a mean glare.

"Sam! Dean!"

Sam and Dean turned to the voice to their right as a middle-aged woman with long dirty blonde hair came out, drying her hands with a dishtowel, tossing it onto an empty table, before going right up to Dean and giving him a hug. He embraced Ellen back, somewhat awkwardly, before letting go and Ellen gave Sam a hug as well.

"Good to see you boys. It's been too long," she said.

"Good to see you too, Ellen," Sam said. "The new Roadhouse looks great."

"Thanks. Took a hell of a lot of work to get it up and running again." Ellen stood back and looked at the girl at Sam's side. "So this must be Max," she said.

Max held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am," she said.

Ellen's eyes widened and she shook her hand. "Manners. Well there's something I wasn't able to teach Jo no matter how much effort I put into it," Ellen asked with an open smile.

"Uh, Ellen, you think we could talk in the back?" Sam asked quietly.

Ellen's expression grew slightly more somber, and then she nodded, turning to the bar. "Craig, cover for me, will ya? I got company!"

"No problem, Ellen!" a man called back.

They followed Ellen into the back room, her office, and she closed the door behind them before taking a seat at her desk. Sam and Dean each took a seat on the couch there, but Max stood, instinct taking over. She was in a new place, on someone else's territory. She looked for exits, estimating a possible threat, and ways of escape. _Just-one-window-window-pulls-up-door-can-lock-but-not-locked-no-other-doors-one-air-vent-too-small-to-escape-through-no-air-conditioners—._

"Max," Sam said softly. Her eyes slid to his, her chain of thoughts cutting off abruptly. "You can sit down." He patted the small area of couch left beside him and after a hesitation she walked over and carefully sat down, facing Ellen.

"Well, could this possibly get any more formal?" Ellen asked. She stood up and took her chair around her desk and close to the couch they all sat at, and then sat down again. "Much better. So, Max," Ellen said, leaning forward in her chair. "Why don't you…tell me a little about yourself?"

Max looked to Sam for approval and he nodded. "We can trust her," he said.

The Manticore drill objected loudly in her head, "_Trust no one_." She pointedly ignored it.

Max turned back to Ellen, stared her in the eye for a few seconds, and then took a deep breath. "I was raised in a government facility called Manticore in a group of children known as the X5's. I am X5-452. My full number is 332960073452. I was given extensive combat training while at Manticore, including martial arts, acrobatics, infiltration, CQB, tracking, marksmanship with many weapons, and computer technology. While outwardly indistinguishable from any normal human, except for the identifying bar code on the back of my neck, I possess several physical and mental enhancements as a result of genetic engineering with feline DNA. I have enhanced strength, speed, agility, reflexes, durability, stamina, eyesight, hearing, coordination and night vision. I have accelerated healing and an enhanced immune system. I also possess an eidetic memory and an I.Q. above genius."

As she spoke, Ellen's face slowly went slack. When Max was done talking, Ellen looked to the boys. "You weren't kidding," she murmured.

"No," Sam said. "We weren't. She's been trained as a soldier her whole life. Locked up in that place until she and the others got out. We don't know how many others made it out, just Max. This isn't exactly something that makes it through the hunter grapevine, because it doesn't have much to do with the supernatural, but Bobby thought it was a good thing that Max found us. Our lifestyle, though different from so-called normal people, works for her. I mean we've been teaching her how to blend in, we're letting her hair grow out, but…she's used to military training. Dad gave us a good background in it, so we're well-versed in that too."

Ellen nodded. "Okay. Well, I brought the boxes of Jo's old stuff to work today. They're in the car. I'll show you."

Sam and Dean got up and Sam motioned for her to follow them and Ellen, which she did. They walked out of her office toward the front and Ellen looked behind the bar as Craig approached her.

"Ellen?" he asked quietly, making a slight nod toward the tables around the saloon.

Ellen moved her eyes around and spotted the suspiciously government-esque officials scattered around the tables, counting five. They hadn't escaped the attention of the other hunters around the bar, who slid their eyes over the company, several glancing over to Ellen as a question of how she wanted to handle the situation. Ellen saw Sam and Dean tense at the sight also, and everyone's attention went to a man who stood up from his seat at a table. He had a distinctly troublesome air about him, ragged short blonde hair and ice-cold blue eyes.

"Hello, Max," he spoke quietly.

Sam's eyes widened slightly and he looked down to Max, who was standing by his side, unusually relaxed he realized, her breathing even as she stared the man down. Her hands were tightened into small fists as she glared intensely at him, swallowing hard. Sam put a hand on her shoulder, moving slightly in front of her.

"Get you and your rent-a-cops out of my bar," Ellen growled. Max moved her eyes over to the woman, impressed at her transition from friendly bartender to fiercely loyal protector.

"We aren't here to cause any trouble. We just want the girl," the leader said, starting to walk slowly toward the bar to where Ellen was standing.

"That's close enough," she snapped.

The man stopped, moving his gaze back to Max. "Zach is asking for you, Max," he murmured. "He misses you."

Fear and fury slid through her bloodstream and Max made a move forward. She stopped in mid-step though when the five other agents leapt to their feet, pulling out guns and aiming them at her. Sam quickly moved himself entirely in front of Max as a shield, his eyes wide and angry as he looked around at the weapons.

"You hurt her and you'll regret it," Ellen said, her voice low and dangerous.

"You think you can trust these people, Max?" the man asked, cocking his head slightly. "You can't trust anyone. You know that. You should come back with me now."

"This is your last warning," Ellen snapped. "Get _out_ of my _bar_."

"_My_ last warning?" the man asked, his tone amused, glancing around at his underlings. Ellen slid her eyes around to the other customers, meeting their gazes for a split-second.

It only took another moment for every man and woman in the bar to slide out and cock his or her gun, pointing it at the nearest intruder.

The leader's eyes widened, looking around at everyone before looking back to Ellen in shock.

"Get out," Ellen repeated.

The leader pursed his lips for a moment before he spoke. "Fall back." He looked over to her as he and his men left. "I will find another way to get to her."

"No. You won't," Ellen replied.

At that, the leader followed his men out, loading into the Jeeps outside, and drove away.

"Is she alright?" Ellen asked, looking down to Max as Sam turned to her.

Max stared after Lydecker, gnashing her teeth together, her breath coming quickly.

"Max?" Sam whispered to her, crouching down to her level. "I'm sure he was bluffing. I'm sure Zach got away."

"I know he was lying," Max murmured. "Because Zach wouldn't ask for me. He's too strong for that."

Sam's expression tightened and he nodded. "That was Lydecker?" he asked. Max averted her gaze and nodded. Sam stood up to look at Ellen. "Well I'm sure that he didn't expect to be faced with so many people prepared to go to war at a moment's notice," he said. "That's the only reason he took off."

"Then we're lucky the bar wasn't empty tonight," Ellen said softly.

"Well I think if we could get those hand-me-downs, we're gonna get out of here," Sam told her, standing back up. "No idea how he found us, but the faster we put distance between us the better."

"Ellen?" asked a man walking over to her from a nearby table. It prompted Sam to instinctively inch slightly in front of Max. "There a reason mercs are comin' round the Roadhouse?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you that, Bart," she told him. "But this ain't hunting business. You're just gonna have to trust my judgment."

Bart glanced to Sam for a moment, sighing and nodded. "Alright. I'll do that." He turned and went back to his table, taking a lot sip of his beer, as Sam and Dean said their goodbyes and took off.


	8. Chapter 8

_April 2009_

Chapter 8:

Sam rolled over in his bed, picking up the cell phone and flipping it open, holding it to his ear as he turned on the light. "Yea?" he rasped.

"_Sam. I know you guys are busy these days with Max, but I need a favor and you're the closest I could find_," Bobby said.

"Yea, sure thing," Sam murmured in reply, sitting up. He glanced at the clock, which read 3:28 AM. Max was already sitting up ramrod straight, looking to Sam for instruction. Dean pushed himself up as well, blinking away sleep.

"_A couple'a hunters out in Minnesota were trackin' a wendigo, but it turned out there were two; it had a mate. Roxie and Ted Rollison. Roxie called me from a hospital. Some hikers found her and brought her there. She's outta the game for now and needs some help. Her husband's still out there and both wendigos are still breathin'._"

"Alright, we're on it. Ah…where are they at?" Sam asked, getting out of bed and grabbing a pen and paper. Dean got up and took some clothes out of his duffle, motioning for Max to do the same.

"_Wild River State Park. Coordinates are __45.96, -92.59._"

Sam repeated it back to him as he wrote them down. "On our way. Should make it in about…seven hours."

"_Alrighty. Call me when you get there._"

"Will do." Sam closed his cell, grabbing some clothes from his duffle and glancing to Dean, relaying the information to him.

"'Kay, we'll head east and you can plug something into the GPS," Dean said. He glanced to Max, who had finished getting dressed and slung her duffle over her shoulder. "Max, when we get there we'll find a motel and you can stay there," he said, pulling on his sneakers.

Max narrowed her eyes, looking from him to Sam. "But you're fighting a monster. I want to help."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, pausing for a moment before he put on his sneakers, closing his duffle. "No, Max. I'm sorry. It's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous?" Max asked, after a moment's pause. "You mean I'm not strong enough?"

"No, that's not what I said," Sam responded with a slight wince. "Come on, we'll talk in the car."

Dean grabbed his duffle and Sam did the same and motioned to her to follow them out to the car, which she did. Once they were on the road, Sam turned around to talk to her. "Max, I have no doubt in my mind that you're strong enough. I just don't want to put you in this sort of danger. You're too young."

"But I'm not, sir," Max told him, desperately confused. Sam pursed his lips at the word _sir _and she noticed. "_Sam. _I've killed monsters before."

Sam stared at her for a long moment before swallowing. "You mean you've killed nomlies?"

Max nodded. "Yes, Sam. I'm a superior soldier. I'm strong and I obey orders. I can and I want to help you kill it. You said I could train with you and Dean to keep up what I know," she said. "Because Manticore is still after me. And I can't just exercise and spar forever."

Sam looked over to Dean and met his gaze, the two having a silent conversation for a few seconds before Sam spoke up to him. "You're kidding."

"No, Sam, I'm not," Dean said quietly. "Two of them? We can use the help. You know what she's been trained in and she's sparred with us. Tell me you don't think she can handle it."

"Not the point," Sam told him rigidly. "She got out of Manticore so she wouldn't have to be a soldier anymore."

"No, she got out of Manticore so she wouldn't have to be _their _soldier anymore," Dean shot back.

Sam let out a rough sigh, looking away and sitting back in his seat.

"He's right, Sam," Max spoke up. "I'm a good soldier. And…I don't know exactly what else I could be, and I do want more than just this, but this is what I am now. The others and I escaped from Manticore because more of the X5's were getting the shakes and they would have kept neutralizing us. It was purely for survival. It wasn't because we didn't want to be soldiers."

"But that's because you didn't know the other option," Sam told her.

Max stared at him evenly for a long moment. "I have no other option, Sam."

Sam gazed out the window into the darkness for a while before he finally spoke. "All right. But no matter what happens, if Dean and I say to head back to the car…if I give you an order, you follow it," he said tightly. "You head back to the car."

"Yes, Sam," Max responded.

"And I need to tell you about what we're going to be hunting."

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_Dad would have been proud to have her as a daughter._

Dean tried to push the disturbing thought from his mind as he handed Max a flare gun, which she slowly took and looked over before she put it in her jacket. He pursed his lips as he armed himself, wishing there was a more efficient way for her to protect herself from this particular thing. Yea, John would have been proud. Aside from the gun thing.

Dean knew that there was no way John Winchester would have condoned anything close to what Max had been through, but she would have made a Hell of an addition to his team on the war against evil. She paid attention to everything Sam or Dean said, taking every word as an order. She was very smart and took in everything Sam told her about mythology and everything Dean said about weapons. Not to mention that she went long distances in the Impala without so much as an, "Are we there yet?"

The past few weeks had been mostly about covering their tracks, getting Max her new identity, and gradually introducing her to more of the world. They'd realized that she was used to an intense exercise regimen so they had to keep close to it, since she would get restless easily otherwise. With that came the need for slightly more calories than the average nine-year-old, and most definitely things spread out around the food groups, which they knew they had to pay attention to.

Aside from the most severe incident with the porn, there had been several other things that had tripped the brothers up. Max had trouble fully understanding the reasoning of the common person, usually going with logic herself, so when it came to confronting religion and the concept of God, it was a long conversation that Sam kept having trouble with. Why would people pray to God when there was no proof He existed? Why did they hold a simple book in such high regard? How did they justify seemingly perpetual wars with such reasoning? And of course, how could people make up such excuses about everything supernatural out in the world, and yet be just as stubborn and illogical justifying the basis of their supernatural religion?

There was also the adjustment Max had to make to the fact other kids didn't usually fight, and none fought to the degree that she did. Also, the more she learned about the real dangers outside Manticore, the more she was confused as to why they didn't learn to fight at all. There were dangers in Manticore but they were controlled dangers, and out in the real world it was worse. You had no control. So how could people not protect themselves and their children from it?

"Okay, let's head out," Dean said with a nod to Sam. Glad that they were starting out in the morning and had the daylight to guide them, Sam took out the GPS and put in the coordinates Bobby had given him.

The main thing that Dean worried about was that in her experience to admit weakness or injury was a bad thing. In their line of work you pushed hard because usually it was the difference between life and death, but if you couldn't accomplish something because you were injured you admitted it. Max was used to being the best soldier she could, but knowing deep down that she was expendable. The fact that that had changed didn't mean it had changed in her gut.

Dean had to admit, though, that Max was a really incredible kid. She had a backpack with emergency supplies, though not as heavy as Sam and Dean's of course, and still kept up with their pace with no problem. She was always aware of her surroundings, of any movement of animals in the bushes or a change in Sam or Dean's pace if they slowed or stopped.

About two hours into the hike, Sam came to a stop, looking at the GPS. "This is it," he said quietly, looking around.

"Sam," Dean spoke. Sam followed his brother, as did Max, and Dean crouched down, motioning to the markings on the ground. "Anasazi symbols. They curve around that way."

"There's a trail," Max said suddenly from a few feet to their left, crouching down to look at something. Sam went over to her, following her as she picked up on the small signs of the wendigo's path. A few minutes later, she stopped, looking around. "It stops here."

"It must have taken him up into the trees," Dean muttered, looking up and around.

"Should we assume it continued in the same direction?" Max asked.

Sam let out a long breath and nodded. "Yea."

It was only a few minutes later that Max spoke up again. "Look." She reached out toward something on the ground and touched it, rubbing it slightly with her finger and smelling it. "Blood."

"Guess that's one perk of having someone shorter with us," Dean said with a half-smile. "She's closer to the ground. We probably woulda missed that."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, continuing forward with new confidence now that they knew they were going in the right direction. Max walked by his side, matching his pace, fighting back a smile at the praise.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

_Wendigos are strong, smart hunters, and wicked fast. So you need to really be on your toes._

Dean's voice echoed in Max's head as he and Sam led the way into the cave they'd finally come upon, all armed with flare guns, among other weapons. Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought of fighting a nomlie, but she pushed what felt like anxiety into strength as she crept farther into the cave. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, carefully looking around for any movement and listening for the slightest sound. When they finally heard it, the growl of something inhumane, each froze in their tracks for a moment before continuing forward.

Just then, a woman's whimpering pleas echoed through the caves before a cry of agony was shouted out. Sam and Dean shot forward, Max close on their heels, starting to smell the scent of decaying flesh, and turned the corner into the deeper part of the cave quickly.

The wendigo caught sight of them and left its prey, furious at having been disturbed, darting around the cave. Dean let off a shot, which slammed into the cave wall a mere foot from it. In the same instant, Max pulled the trigger on hers as well, nailing it in the back. The wendigo went tumbling into the wall of the cave, falling to the ground with a scream as the fire spread through its body.

"Damn," Dean breathed, glancing to Max.

"I'll stand guard," Sam said, motioning for Dean to attend to the victims.

Dean nodded once curtly, going quickly over to them, swallowing hard at the mutilated bodies of several others in the corner and a third dead still hanging from the ceiling. He checked on the woman first, whose breathing was shallow, blood streaming down her left arm from her shoulder, but he let out a grateful breath that her pulse was decently strong.

"We're gonna get you outta here," he told her, meeting her shaky gaze. Dean had a feeling the only reason she wasn't hysterical was because her body was exhausted. He took out a knife and slid an arm around her back to catch her as he cut the rope that suspended her from the ceiling. He carefully laid her on the ground. "Max?" he asked, cutting the rope that bound her wrists.

"Yes, Dean?" she asked, materializing beside him.

"She's losing a little too much blood for my comfort. Can you wrap her shoulder?" he said, glancing to her.

"Yes, Dean," Max said with a nod, taking off her backpack as she knelt at the woman's side.

Dean got back to his feet, going over to the man suspended by his wrists, and saw that he was conscious. "Ted, I presume?" he asked, putting an arm around him as he started to cut the rope.

"Roxie?" he murmured. "She's okay?"

"She's fine. In the hospital," Dean said. He spared a glance to the bleeding woman, who let out a few whimpers as Max wrapped her shoulder. Dean let out a grunt as he took on the man's considerable weight, almost all of which was muscle, doing his best to lower him to the ground slowly. "Bobby Singer called us."

"There's two," Ted breathed.

"Yea, one's dead, my brother's keeping watch for the other," Dean replied, slicing through the bindings. "I'm Dean, that's Sam."

"Huh. Winchester," he muttered, sliding his eyes up to the young hunter.

"Two and only. You hurt?" Dean asked, looking him over.

"No," Ted said with a slow shake of his head.

"Help me out, then?" Dean helped the man to his feet, taking an arm around his shoulder as support, and glanced to his right. "You good?" he asked.

Max finished up what she was doing before she looked up to Dean. "Slowed the bleeding," she said, closing her backpack.

"Alright. Sam?"

Sam came quickly over, handing his flare gun to Max, carefully taking the woman in his arms. She let out a pained whimper at the movement. "It's okay," Sam said quietly. "You're safe. We're gonna get you out of here."

"Who's the rugrat?" Ted muttered.

"Your princess in shining armor," Dean replied. "Let's get going."

"Should I take point, Sam?" Max asked, motioning with her weapon.

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance, but he wasn't about to argue with her though, so he nodded and followed her instead, Dean bringing up the rear.

A low, livid growl echoed through the cave.

"Guess someone isn't too happy about the welcome home gift," Dean muttered, though he didn't slow his pace.

"Prob'ly heard the scream," Ted said quietly. They continued their path back the way they came, the cave's acoustics making it difficult to pin down exactly where the wendigo was from the growl, their only option to keep pushing forward.

Suddenly, a snarling blur came running at them from the front, targeting Max. Sam barely had time to yell out her name before it had already tackled her. His voice caught in his throat when she seemed to almost blur with it, throwing her bent left arm in front of herself, and used its own strength against it. As she hit the ground, Max rolled backwards, throwing it off, smashing it into the wall of the cave, and somehow managing to keep a hold on her flare gun. It had just hit the ground when Max had aimed and fired, and the flare smashed into the wendigo's chest, exploding in a fireball.

"Move out," Max snapped, continuing forward.

"Damn," Ted whispered, trying to support some of his weight.

Dean snorted. "That's what I said."

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Max stared at the television from her cot, which was tuned to the news channel, as Sam got a book out of his duffle and got into bed. She heard Dean turned on the shower and get in and slid her eyes over to Sam, who was flipping to the last page he'd been on. Pursing her lips, she looked back to the television.

After another five seconds, she looked back to him. "Sam?"

Sam glanced up from his book, raising his eyebrows. "Hm?"

Max turned the television on mute, putting the remote aside, and slid her eyes to him. "You said it was a rescue mission. Ted Rollison and another hunter had gone after the two wendigos and his partner had been put in the hospital and he'd been captured."

Sam blinked at her and nodded. "Yea."

"But they had taken another prisoner. A woman. And it seemed like…right away you and Dean knew you were going to help her too. Risk your lives, my life, and the life of the other hunter to take on another P.O.W. Even though you didn't know her."

Sam swallowed and nodded again slowly. "And you don't completely understand."

"It…wasn't our mission," Max said quietly. "It put our mission in jeopardy."

Sam put his book aside and turned to face her. "Max…how do you feel about your friend Zach?"

Max's expression tightened. "He's our leader."

"But…he's also your friend. You would risk your safety to help him. Right?" he asked.

"Of course," she murmured. "He's a fellow comrade."

"I know, Max, but…." Sam let out a long breath. "If you saw someone hurting Zach…what would you feel?"

Max swallowed hard and paused for a long moment. "Angry. And…and scared," she whispered.

"You would want to help him," Sam said. "Not just because he's a fellow comrade or because he's your leader. But because…it hurts you to see him hurt." Max averted her gaze and nodded. "That's called empathy, Max. And it's not a bad thing."

"Emotions cloud judgment," she whispered. "They make you make mistakes."

"Emotions are what make us human," he corrected her. "And I felt empathy for that woman. Even though I didn't know her, as…a fellow human being and…someone who had experienced pain before…I wanted to help her. At Manticore…they tried to teach you it was wrong. To breed that out of you."

"They did," Max whispered, her gaze on her hands. "I didn't…feel empathy for her—."

"They _didn't_, Max," Sam told her. "Look at me." Max slowly slid her eyes up to his. "They didn't. Because you feel it for Zach. Now you know it's okay to feel empathy. You know emotions aren't always a bad thing. You block them all out, you're blocking out a lot of good stuff too. And for the record…it's always our mission to help people. Okay?"

Max bit her lip hard and nodded. She turned the television off and slid under the covers, closing her eyes, pushing back tears.

Sam stared at Max sadly and tiredly for a long moment before he turned back to his book.


	10. Chapter 10

**I've always loved this concept and I realized this was a great opportunity to give it a shot! If everyone hates the idea, I'll forget about it, so please review your opinion!**

_Late April_

Chapter 10:

Dean stopped, his hand halfway to the shelf to grab the batteries. "We just took in one stray and you want to take in another? Are you joking?" he asked, staring at Sam in disbelief.

"I think it would be good for her," Sam said gently. "A dog could really draw her out of her shell."

"This is only cause _Marley and Me_ was on the other night," Dean muttered, taking the batteries off the shelf and continuing down the aisle.

"No, it's not. That just started the ball rolling in my head," he responded. "There's a reason they're considered man's best friend; they're loyal companions who don't ask for anything in return except some love."

"And food," Dean noted. "And training. And they shed. And they crap everywhere—is this why you had Max stay at the motel?" he asked suddenly. "You wanted to spring this on me?"

Sam sighed, exasperated. "I'm not springing anything on you. I'm just suggesting something. I've thought it through."

"Obviously not, because there are so many things wrong with this idea I don't know where to start."

"We wouldn't be getting a huge dog," Sam told him, "so it wouldn't need to eat a lot. And we'd just get one that doesn't shed much and is already housebroken."

"_Impala-_broken," Dean corrected, his voice rough.

"Dean," Sam said warningly, "don't make this about the car. If that's your only reason for not doing this, that's not okay because Max trumps the Impala."

Dean pursed his lips and sighed. "Okay, what about exercise? We're always in the car or in a motel. Which, by the way, motels?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not big on dogs."

Sam smiled slightly. "Dean, we never let any maids in anyway. Half the time we leave the place bloody. What makes you think anything will change with the motels?"

Dean cocked his head slightly. "True."

"And stopping to throw a tennis ball around for twenty minutes isn't a big deal," he added.

"You really did think this through, didn't you?" Dean murmured, picking up a handful of matchbooks and putting them in his basket.

"Yea, I really did. I didn't want to come to you with this idea unless I knew I could counter anything you came up with."

"Woulda made a pain in the ass lawyer," Dean grumbled. "Okay, what about the biggest thing? Hunting? What, we leave the dog in the car every time?"

"We leave in the car when we have to," Sam told him with a shrug. "If the dog's got hunting in its genes then it might actually be an asset on a hunt."

"It'd be a liability," he corrected him. "It means instead of our attention being on two things, the hunt and Max, it's now three, the hunt, Max, and the dog. And if Max starts to care about a dog, the shit'll hit the fan if it gets hurt or killed."

"Dean, if she starts to genuinely care about it…I'd consider that a victory in itself," Sam said quietly.

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"So where are we going?" Max asked, her narrowed, curious eyes looking out the window as they drove down the street.

"We've got a surprise for you," Dean said, lifting the side of his mouth in a smile as he glanced back at Max. After another ten minutes, Dean pulled into a parking lot and parked. "Come on," he said, getting out of the car.

Max followed Sam and Dean up to the front door, taking in her surroundings, and looked up at the sign over the door. _Willington Animal Shelter._ "Are we here for a job?" she asked as they walked in, looking around the lobby as Dean went up to the receptionist.

"Nope," Sam replied.

Max stopped at his side as Dean spoke to the woman. "Is there someone free to show us through?" he asked. "We're hoping to adopt a dog."

"Yup," she replied, glancing to her computer for a moment. She turned around. "Henry? Dog adoption?"

"Sure thing," came the reply.

Max stared at Dean, stunned, before moving her eyes up to Sam and then back to Dean. With a gentle push from Sam, she followed Dean and the young employee through a doorway. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked down the hall, seeing a long row of dogs in cages, some sleeping, some playing, many barking.

"What kind of dog are you looking for?" Henry asked as they walked slowly down the hall.

"Something that doesn't shed too much," Dean noted, looking over the dogs.

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance. "Something friendly, but it would protect its master if necessary," he spoke. "But not too large. We tend to take road trips and want to bring it along. It needs to be housebroken already, and it would be really great if it knew some basic commands, or at least was a breed that tended to learn easily. Maybe some hunting in its background."

"Alright. That's pretty specific, but let's see what we can find," Henry replied.

Max's gaze slid over the dogs curiously. Adopting a dog. When had Sam and Dean decided this? Presumably they had thought it through, she knew. They wouldn't have made such a big decision otherwise. Would it be her dog? Would she be its master? She'd learned that many people kept them as pets from that movie the other night, not just as hunting dogs like at Manticore, and knew that was what Sam and Dean meant to do.

"All the dogs here are spayed or neutered, and whether they're housebroken already will be specified on the chart on the cage," Henry told them.

"Okay. Check them out, Max," Dean said with a smile. "Tell us if you see any you like."

Max looked up to Dean before she looked back to the cages, pursing her lips in concentration. How could she choose just one dog from all of them? Sam's specifications would help, she realized. Taking them into consideration, she looked at each of the dogs she passed before moving on. Long hair, short hair, big, small, playful, lazy. She kept walking, her pace slow as she carefully read the information on each cage's label.

After two turns, halfway down the third hallway Max slowed to a stop as she laid eyes on a blonde dog lying in a cage staring up at her. She closed the distance to the cage, crouching down, and the dog lifted its head, cocking it in interest, its tail sliding back and forth slowly across the floor. Max reached out to the cage, sliding her hand through the chain link, and it stood up, walking over and sniffing her hand, licking it. Max blinked, sliding her hand over the dog's head.

"She's pretty for a stray," Sam murmured.

"I think Molly is…some beagle, some brittany, and some Australian cattledog would account for the coloring," Henry spoke up. "She's about eight months and she was well cared for, but they couldn't afford to keep her. Quite a few dogs get transferred here that were dropped off by their owners. With the economy the way it is these days, it's happening more."

"That sucks," Dean said.

Max stared at the dog as she scratched her behind her ear. Sam was right; she was pretty. Her clean coat was ginger-blonde, blurring to white on her snout and down her chest to her stomach. Her ankles were white with a smattering of blonde spots and her tail was ginger with a smattering of white spots at the end. The dog stared at her with big brown eyes and Max found a smile slowly spreading across her face as she cocked her head to match the dog's.

"You like her, Max?" Sam asked, smiling at her gently.

"Her name's Molly?" she asked instead of answering, not breaking her gaze with the dog.

"Yea, but usually people change the dog's name when they get them," Henry told her.

"Diana," Max murmured, sliding her hand down the dog's head.

Sam made a _hm_ sound and smiled. "Heck of a name to live up to," he said.

Dean turned to him. "What's it mean?"

"It's Greek," Sam told him. "Goddess of the hunt and protector of children."

Dean snorted. "Well, Hell. Diana sounds perfect."


	11. Chapter 11

_May_

Chapter 11:

"Apparently the training's going pretty well," Sam told Bobby, putting down his newspaper. "Diana's a smart dog. Picks things up quickly."

"And how's Max handling her?" Bobby asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Sam considered the question. "I think watching _Marley and Me _helped her understand the common dog's relationship with its master actually."

Bobby snorted. "God bless technology."

"Yea. And…they're bonding, I think," Sam murmured. "They don't do more than twenty minutes of training at a time, so often Max will toss around a Frisbee or a tennis ball. When they do train…you should see Max's face light up when Diana does something impressive."

"I'd like to see that," Bobby replied with a small smile. "Anything that can make that girl's face light up is good by me."

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Dean sipped at his coffee before walking off of the porch, heading into the junkyard. He saw Diana lying down next to a car, seemingly anxious to go somewhere, and walked up to her side. "What're you up to?" he murmured. Diana looked up to him, let out a small whine, blinked, and then went back to staring into the junkyard.

A few seconds later, he heard Max call, "Diana, come!"

At that, Diana jumped to her feet, bolting into the junkyard, and Dean's eyebrows rose. He slowly wandered after the dog, losing her within a few seconds, but spotting Max stand up once Diana had found her. Giving Diana the treat, Max gave her a quick pat as she went over to Dean.

"Impressive," Dean told her. "Aside from the basics, which I know she's mastered, what else does she know so far?"

"I've moved on to more complex orders. I'll tell her to stay, and then I'll throw the ball and she has to wait for the order to fetch."

"And she's got that down?" Dean asked.

Max nodded, going over to the picnic table and taking the tennis ball from the surface. Diana immediately became more alert, tail wagging slowly in anticipation, her eyes on the tennis ball. "Sit," Max ordered. Diana sat, causing her wagging tail to brush the ground back and forth, making a small cloud of dust. "Stay." Diana blinked once. Max threw the ball and Diana jerked slightly in response, her eyes following the ball. When it was out of sight, she raised her eyes to Max, blinked, then looked back after the ball, then moved her eyes back to Max.

Dean pursed his lips to keep from smiling.

"Fetch," Max stated.

Diana bolted after the ball, dust flying up in her wake, and Dean nodded his approval. "Very impressive."

"She's a smart dog," Max said softly.

Dean's eyes slid down to the young girl as she stared after her dog. A few seconds later, Diana came running up to Max with the ball and Max took it with a positive, "Good dog."

"Hey, give me a shot," Dean said, motioning for her to give him the ball. Max did so and Dean tossed the ball up and down a few times, Diana's eyes following it, before throwing it hard and high, calling out, "Fetch!"

Max watched the ball sail for a moment before looking back to Dean. "Did you ever have a dog?" she asked.

Dean shook his head and looked down to her. "Nope. Dad never went for it. Thought we moved around too much."

"Why did you get a dog now then? You move around just as much," she pointed out.

Dean looked down to her with a half-smile. "Truthfully, you were a big factor."

Max blinked. "Really?"

"You're surprised?" Dean asked as Diana came running back, stumbling to a stop in front of Dean and dropping the ball at his feet. Max remained silent as Dean threw the ball again, prompting Diana to bolt after it. "Having a dog is…a normal kid thing," he told her quietly. "Dogs are the best friends you can have. Food, water, and love, and they give you their undying loyalty and affection. Unconditional love is something special and…." Dean let out a breath. "You…deserve to know what it is. Deserve to have it…. And to know that the one giving it to you doesn't have any ulterior motives."

Dean shifted his weight at the awkward moment as Diana came running back once again and left the ball at his feet, looking up to him panting, her mouth up in a doggy grin. Dean smiled back at her and picked up the ball, chucking it with all his strength, prompting her to dart after it again. Max's eyes slowly narrowed at the aim as the ball drifted from the path down the middle of the junkyard. There was a _smash_ as it went through the window of a car and Dean grimaced. "Whoops," he muttered. Diana slowly came to a stop in front of the car, sniffing around it.

"Ah crap," Dean sighed, walking forward, and used his thumb and forefinger to let out a piercing whistle. "Diana! Come!" he yelled. Diana reluctantly ran back to Dean and Max. "She'll cut herself on the glass if she tries to get in," he said, glancing down to Max, who nodded in understanding.

The porch door creaked as it swung open, and Bobby's voice irritably called out, "Dean!"

"Yea, yea, I'll fix it!" Dean yelled back dismissively. He took out his cell phone, glancing at the time, and finished his coffee.

"Dean?" Max asked quietly.

"Hm?" he asked, looking over to her.

Max pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment. "Thank you," she finally said.

Dean blinked in surprise. "For what?" he murmured.

"For…taking care of me," she said, averting her gaze. "I…I do believe that neither you nor Sam have ulterior motives for helping me."

A gentle smile surfaced on his face. "I'm glad."

"I usually talk to Sam about…you know…this stuff," she muttered. "I just wanted you to know…."

"Hey, I'm not great with this stuff either," Dean replied with a shrug. "But knowing that you do feel that you can trust us…that's something I was hoping we could get to. Cause a kid like you deserves to have people you can count on." Max gave him a small smile. "For the record…you trust Bobby?"

Max pursed her lips thoughtfully. "No. Not…not like I trust you and Sam," she said quietly.

Dean nodded. "That's okay. I'm glad you know you have another ally at least."

Max swallowed tightly and hesitated. "Dean…do you think any of the others made it?" she whispered.

Dean let out a long breath. "I gotta say yea," he replied. "And I wish I could make sure the assholes that raised you in that Hellhole never got the chance to hurt you again. But reaching out to try to find the others…."

"I know," Max said tersely. She paused. "I'm going to go read for a while."

"Alright. I'm gonna stay out here cause otherwise Bobby'll probably put me to work fixing that window I broke," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

Max gave him a half smile and nodded. She slapped the side of her leg a couple times and Diana followed her inside.


	12. Chapter 12

**I meant to have the next chapter about Diana's first hunt, but I put my fingers to the keyboard and The Pulse came out. Oops. :) I haven't posted in a while cause that's what I've been working on, and I kept hoping I would get inspired for the 'real' next chapter, but now I'm like, screw it, let me post these, I'll do a déjà vu to Diana's first hunt or something. So here ya go!**

_June 1__st__, 2009 9:05 AM_

Chapter 12:

As soon as the lights went out and an echoing _thwump_ slid through the motel room, Sam dropped his toothbrush and came quickly out of the bathroom. Diana whimpered at the disturbance she'd sensed and went over to Max's side, the hair on the back of her neck standing up with her tail.

"Max?" Sam asked.

"I'm good," she told him, looking around the room for an attacker. A low, anxious growl sounded from Diana and Max gently hushed her.

Sam went over to Max's side as Dean grabbed a shotgun out of his bag, looking around the room. "This is weird. Knocking out power is a spirit thing, not a skinwalker thing," Dean said, his voice low.

"I know," Sam murmured. He blinked, sliding his eyes around the room. "Hey…you hear that?"

Dean cocked his head curiously and then his eyes widened just the slightest bit.

"Hear what?" Max asked, listening carefully.

"Exactly," Dean muttered. He quickly walked over to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open, and looked around. He paused for a long moment. "Dude…it's everywhere," he said, snapping his gaze back to Sam. Sam and Max darted to the door, looking around outside.

"Where did all the electricity go?" Max whispered.

In mild shock, Sam looked up and down the small-town Colorado street. It was nine o'clock in the morning on a weekday, so the diner, the post office, and the jewelry store within eyeshot all had people inside, but they were all dark. On a hunch, Sam took his cell phone out of his pocket. "Dean, we've got a problem."

"What?"

"My cell won't turn on."

Dean instantly took his cell phone out of his pocket as well. "Uh oh."

"Demons?" Sam asked. "Large scale attack?"

"Like in the jail with Hendrikson?" Dean let out a long breath and shook his head worriedly. "That was one building. This looks like a whole friggin' town. At least the whole street."

"Then something like the demonic virus a few years ago?" Sam asked.

"If it is, it's still a bigger scale," Dean said, shutting the door. "We just didn't have any reception then. This is full on…_War of the Worlds_."

"Let's stick to Earthly problems for now," Sam responded tightly.

"What's _War of the Worlds_?" Max asked, looking up to Dean.

Dean didn't answer for a long moment. Then he went over to the television, trying to turn it on, with no luck. "Hey, college boy, what could get rid of electricity?" he finally asked.

"Get rid of electricity?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. "This isn't just a blackout. This is…." He let out a long breath. "A blackout is when the source of electricity is cut out. This is something much bigger."

"As of about a week ago, homeland security raised the risk level to orange," Max noted, drawing their eyes to hers. "We shouldn't eliminate the possibility of this being a human issue." Sam thought for a moment before he narrowed his eyes curiously and tilted his head a bit at the suggestion. "What?" she asked.

"Actually…for a few decades now military have been talking about the possibility of an EMP bomb," Sam said, looking from Max to Dean, who motioned for him to continue. "An electromagnetic pulse bomb. On a really big scale."

Dean nodded slowly. "That's a good theory. So answer me this. Would it blow out an EMF meter?"

Sam's face went slack and he went quickly over to his duffle, taking out his meter, and suddenly dropped it, hissing in a sharp breath. "Ow…shit," he muttered, shaking his slightly burnt hand. "Yea, it definitely blew out."

"Sam, how far could this thing go?" Dean asked, his voice low.

Sam pursed his lips anxiously and met his brother's eyes. "If it's high up enough…hundreds of miles. Even thousands."

"Do cars still work?"

"Depends on the frequency of the pulse and the car," Sam said with a shrug. "It only cut electricity because the source of electricity is monitored and controlled by things that store information on chips. If the pulse was intense enough to really fry a car's electrical system, we'd be feeling it too. But in general, probably only very modern cars because of their wiring."

Dean snorted. "Then we should be fine," he muttered. "But some other cars…." He slowly shook his head.

"If we're right, we've got maybe an hour before everyone here wakes up, realizes what's going on, and mob mentality takes over," Sam said tightly. "If this did hit DC, they're already figuring out what happened and freaking out and trying to put together a plan of action, and if it hit New York…."

"Wall Street's already gotta be the running of the bulls," Dean said, nodding tensely. "Alright, ah…Bobby's would probably be better cause of the safe room, but Ellen's closer. Let's grab our stuff, dig out the paper maps, and haul ass," he said, putting his shotgun back into his duffle. "We'll stock up on supplies at the local mart before we head out."

"What about our job? The skinwalker?" Max asked.

"Max, if we got this right, one skinwalker is the least of our problems," Dean told her, slinging his duffle over his head.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Max walked with Diana around the grassy area in front of the store, constantly scanning the perimeter like Dean had said to do. The two brothers had gone in with a supplies list in mind including water, canned food, and medicine, including tryptophan supplements, among other things. They'd gone in five minutes ago giving her the instructions to look like a bored kid with her dog, waiting for someone who had gone into the store.

There were several small groups of people outside along the street talking to each other. Examining their body language, Max figured that they were worried, but not quite panicked yet. She didn't see any children outside though, which she knew was worth noting. Sam had once told her that a parent protecting their child could be worse than any soldier protecting their brothers in arms because logic and reason didn't usually play a part.

Just then, Max saw a woman point to her from a group about twenty meters off. Max didn't react more than turn back to the supermarket where she saw Sam and Dean arrive at the cashier, each with a grocery cart full of supplies. Dean gave the cashier a devil-may-care smile as he said something, taking out his wallet and removing three paper bills, handing them over.

Looking back to the group that had taken notice of her, keeping her pace even, Max saw that two men and the woman had started making their way toward her. She pursed her lips and slid her eyes back to the store, where Sam and Dean were just exiting. She met their eyes and subtly signed _hurry up, enemy_, as they made their way to the car and they scouted for what she'd seen, landing eyes on the three people coming to confront them.

Max saw Dean say something quietly to Sam and as they got to the Impala and opened the trunk, starting to put in the supplies, the three people reached them. She saw Diana tense slightly at the strangers, so she leaned down and patted her, murmuring, "Easy girl." The dog relaxed a bit, but Max knew that Diana had good instincts and that she could tell that people coming over to confront them right now might be a bad thing.

"'Scuse me?" one of the men asked. "You look like you're stocking up for World War III. Want to tell us what's going on?"

Sam motioned to Max to keep loading the trunk, the epitome of openness and innocence on his face as he turned to them. "I wish I knew," he replied. "We just live about twenty miles east of here, in Harding, and as soon as our grandfather realized something's up, he started panicking. He's a war vet," Sam said with a slight grimace. "Convinced that some terrorist attack's going on. Told us to get down to a store straight away and stock up on everything or he'd do it himself and…he's not in good enough shape to do that. I just…we're new in town and I didn't want to field questions. I ah…I don't really like talking to people about gramps. Why? Have you heard something?" he asked, widening in worry.

"No, but we sent the sheriff off to see what he could find out," the man told him, relaxing minutely.

"I did start to worry when we got to the next town over and it wasn't just us," Sam said, puppy eyes full force. He lowered his voice a bit, leaning in toward them. "My niece is only nine and I'm worried she's pretty rattled."

The woman's expression softened and she nodded. "Good luck. If you do hear anything, send word over to us."

Sam gave her an open smile. "Sure thing." As soon as they turned to go back toward their group, Sam went back to the carts, which Dean and Max were finishing emptying, having expanded the storage area to the back seat. "We good?" he asked.

"All set," Dean replied, shutting the back seat as Max shut the trunk. "Let's haul ass, Puss in Boots."

Sam shot him a glare as he got in shotgun and Diana jumped up into the back seat, followed by Max, before they took off.


	13. Chapter 13

**Note: I decided to bring Ash back to life. :) Actually, that's supernatural-ly incorrect; I just had him never die. Just loved his character and wanted to have him here for this. Plus the opportunity to write Ash was something that I didn't want to miss!**

Chapter 13:

For the next ten hours of what normally would have been a five-hour trip, Dean kept off the highway and away from bigger towns, keeping a steady speed and avoiding eye contact with anyone they passed. He and Sam each kept a gun in easy reach, knowing that they'd probably only have to raise it into sight to convince anyone approaching the Impala that they weren't worth the trouble. When they ran low on gas, they found a remote parking lot and siphoned out some gas from a smattering of cars, filling the Impala and refilling the gas can, but aside from that they switched off driving and took food and bathroom breaks in abandoned areas. Diana's demeanor let them know that she knew something was happening, so Max gave her the occasional praise and pat since she was being calm and quiet anyway. It seemed that as long as nothing really dangerous was going down, Diana was fine with lying down on her section of the back seat, her head resting on Max's leg.

As they approached the Roadhouse and he pulled into the lot, Sam let out a small sigh of relief that they'd made it before dark. As expected, the lot also had another unfamiliar car in it, another hunters' car presumably, but Ellen's car wasn't there, which prompted a bit of worry. Sam parked with free space on both sides of the car by habit, in case they needed to make a quick getaway, and Dean spoke up, "Let me check it out first," which got a nod of confirmation from Sam and Max. Getting out of the car, Dean also took note of the fact that in addition to the Closed sign being up, the windows that were usually only covered with curtains were covered with two boards each, leaving a three-inch gap to look out of. Or, of course, if they smashed the glass, to stick weapons out of.

Approaching the front door, Dean called out, "Ellen! It's Dean!" He opened the screen door and knocked loudly. "Hey, white flag, we come in peace—."

The door swung open, revealing a surprised Jo. "Dean!" she exclaimed, taking him in a brief hug, which he returned, before drawing back. "What are you doing here?"

Dean blinked, taken slightly aback. "Ah…power in numbers? Would it be weird to ask what _you're _doing here?"

Jo's expression became anxious. "I've been back for about a month. Come on in, I'll explain," she said, moving aside as Sam, Max and Diana exited the car. Dean locked the Impala as they all walked inside. Jo threw a small smile at Diana as she came in, all senses on alert at the new location. "Mom told me you'd taken on a kid, but when'd you guys get a dog?" she asked as she closed and locked the door, replacing a two-by-four across it as a backup.

"Just recently. Her name's Diana," Sam replied as Diana walked around, nose to the floor in deep concentration as she took in all the new scents. Sam looked around, spotting that the pool table was gone and in its place were two mattresses, and his eyes caught on Ash.

"Fellas," Ash said, giving both a nod of greeting.

"Hey Ash," Dean replied with a nod of reply. "That working?" he asked, glancing to the laptop Ash was sitting in front of.

"Works fine, but that's only cause I rebuilt it from crap I had lyin' around," Ash responded.

"Have you guys spoken to my mom?" Jo asked, folding her arms tightly.

"No. What do you mean? Where is she?" Dean asked.

Jo sighed, ruffling her hair slightly. "She headed to Millontown to stock up on supplies at like three, once Ash had learned what was happening. Hasn't been back since. I'm glad you're here, cause I can use the company when I head out."

"It took you six hours to figure out it was an EMP?" Sam asked, puzzled, turning to Ash.

"Nah, that was the easy part," Ash replied. "Just took me six hours to rebuild the computer, hack into a functional satellite and get online, and get info from DC about what the Hell's goin' on."

Dean glanced at his watch. "So you haven't heard from her for…four hours?" he asked, , his eyes narrowed. "Why'd she go on her own?"

"Figured she could handle it and wanted me and Ash here to hold down the fort. Be ready in case hunters started showing up," Jo muttered. "She said on the _rare_ chance she didn't come back within an hour to wait until we could use dark as cover, and if she still wasn't back by then, head out to try to track her down."

"Ash, what _is _going on?" Sam asked, walking over to his side and glancing at the computer. "What have you found out?"

"Ah, nuttin' good," Ash muttered, typing away at his computer. "EMP was set off 80 miles over US soil. Won't bore you with the techie details, but obviously it couldn't throw from one coast to another, at least not without making a mess o' Canada 'n Meh-hee-ko, so there were two points of detonation, around northern Utah and southern West Virginia. So the whole US wasn't wiped, but it may as well o' been cause we're up shit creek anyhow. New York's financial district is totally FUBAR. Washington's in chaos, chasing their tails. No offense," he added, glancing to Diana. "The higher-ups are trying to figure somethin' out, but they got no real way to get information to the masses, so even if they do hammer out a plan…."

Dean sighed. "Alright, well, we've got supplies," he told them. "Out in the Impala. We can get them inside and then me and Jo'll take off to look for Ellen. Sam, Max, you'll hold down the fort here with Ash and Diana. Sound good?"

"Yessir," Ash replied, pushing himself to his feet.

"Here, we've got some empty liquor boxes we can use to store everything," Jo said, motioning to the corner where the boxes were stacked, prompting each of them to take one.

"Jo, you got this place locked down tight, I'm assuming?" Dean asked as they went outside. Realizing everyone was heading back out, Diana quickly went after them, seemingly eager to figure out exactly what was going on and who the new people were.

"Yea. Windows are all boarded up like the ones in the front," Jo replied, holding the screen door for Max. "The trailer's not on wheels, so we don't have to worry about it going anywhere if we do get company, but we brought our mattresses and our stuff in here cause it's easier to lock down without a trailer extension."

"Agreed," Dean replied, popping the trunk. "Ash, what other details did you get?"

"Pretty much what you already guessed," Ash replied, piling things into his box. "Everybody knows we gotta do somethin', but nobody can figure out exactly what that somethin' is. Anythin' that holds info on chips got wiped, so anythin' that's controlled by somethin' that holds info on chips went 'n croaked. Hospitals woulda been choked up with transpo accidents alone, I'm sure, but hysteria spread pretty damn fast too. Riots started. Some people barricaded themselves in their houses, figurin' the Red Cross would come knockin' any minute to save the day. But mostly they ain't got no clue, so they went with panic as good an option as any." He adjusted his grip on his box as they went back inside.

"The rich are panickin' cause they ain't got no palms to grease to make it all go away. The politicians are all trying to fix shit, but only if they can up their numbers at the same time. Although," he snorted, "they ain't really got numbers no more. All those ones and zeroes just turned into zeroes. The conspiracy nuts are talkin' 'bout everythin' from our own government blowing shit up by accident to…aliens. But we know it's terrorists already got it verified. Some, ah, Middle East insurgent group, one'a the ones that all sound the same. So, yea, the military's doin' their thing, figurin' out what country to point the finger so we can start throwin' shit at 'em, but first we gotta figure out how exactly we're gonna do that," he said. Jo put her box down and opened the walk-in storage closet, motioning for everyone to put their boxes inside. "So far, I think…buildin' a real big slingshot and flingin' a nuke at 'em tops the list," Ash said.

Dean let out a mildly depressed chuckle as he put his box on a shelf. "Yea, I'll bet." He sighed as they headed back out through the swinging door. "Well, even when everything does get straightened out, it's gonna take a Hell of a long time for the US to recover from this. And hunting's gonna be a crap shoot from now on."

"But things still do need hunting," Sam told him. "And if anything, people are going to be more vulnerable to supernatural stuff."

Dean grunted in agreement. "I know. But let's work on getting everyone through the next couple weeks in one piece. Which primarily means finding Ellen and getting her back here ASAP. We'll hammer out our own plan after that."


	14. Chapter 14

**Just realized I'd never posted this one, but I won't be continuing this farther, sorry!**

Chapter 14:

"My mom's not careless," Jo said as Dean drove the Impala slowly out of the parking lot and onto the road. "She wouldn't have taken any unnecessary risks. Wouldn't have gotten herself into trouble. My main worry is that she tried to get someone else out of trouble and didn't succeed."

"Well, she's smart," Dean muttered. "She knows how to get out of trouble if she falls into it. But anyway, how'd you end up back at the Roadhouse?"

Jo considered the question, staring out into the darkness, the night air hitting her face. "I missed her. I called. Turned out she missed me too."

Dean nodded in understanding. He paused for a long moment as Jo put her cassette into his stereo. "Any signal I should be on the lookout for?"

"Nothing in particular," Jo replied. "But I'll be keeping my eyes peeled. And hopefully she is roadside and she'll hear the music and know it's me." She turned up the volume as Joe Walsh started playing from the speakers.

They fell into a long stretch of silence as they drove down the road at twenty miles an hour, their eyes peeled for any movement. They watched for signs that a car had driven off of the road or anything else out of the ordinary. No other cars passed them more often than one every twenty minutes or so, the other drivers careful to avoid eye contact. Dean and Jo did the same, knowing that they could handle a confrontation but not wanting to have to.

It was about an hour later that Jo narrowed her eyes and spoke up. "You see that—?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered, keeping the car at a steady pace but turning off the headlights, glad the moon was almost full. After another few seconds he saw it again: what was presumably a flashlight flickered S.O.S.

"That's gotta be her," Jo told him, leaning forward into her seatbelt, her back rigid.

Dean nodded tightly and continued down the road as Jo turned down the music. He slowed around the area that he estimated the light had flashed at, sliding his gun out of his jacket and into his lap. He relaxed when he saw Ellen come out from the cover of some bushes.

"Dean?" Ellen asked, surprised.

Jo leapt from the car and ran around to her mother. "Mom!" she cried, grabbing her in a hug, which Ellen instantly returned.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," she assured her, rubbing her back gently.

Jo pulled back to look at her mother from arm's length. "Where's the car? What happened?"

"Well, I saw someone in trouble and I did the stupid thing," Ellen murmured to her daughter. "I stopped to help." Jo followed her mother's gaze as she turned to her right and she blinked in surprise.

A young girl, no more than five years old, uneasily approached them. "Ellen?" she asked shakily, her voice barely audible.

"It's okay, Mia," Ellen assured her. "This is my daughter." She turned back to Jo and took her in another hug, whispering in her ear, "Her mama's dead."

Jo swallowed hard. She pulled back and nodded before turning to the timid young girl. "Come on, Mia. You hungry?" she asked gently. Mia nodded. "Let's get you something to eat."

"I was debating heading back and bringing Jo with me when I saw the car. I saw that nobody else was stopping to help, so I pulled over," Ellen said quietly. She briefly glanced back to Mia, who was silently eating a candy bar and taking long drinks of her bottle of water, as Dean drove the Impala down the road. "Mia was all right because she'd been in a car seat, but her mama…." Ellen swallowed hard as she heard Mia sniffle. "I got Mia outta the car, but some guy shoved a gun in my face and told me to give him my keys. I had my Sig in my jacket, but he woulda got a shot off, no question, so I just gave 'em to him. And with everything in chaos, I knew we'd do best to hunker down and wait 'til dark to get going. I managed to get my hands on a flashlight and we started walking."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Jo said quietly. Ellen nodded silently in agreement, staring out into the intense darkness. They passed groups of people occasionally, some huddled around bonfires, and remnants of the initial panic littered the streets, but otherwise the town was eerily quiet and locked-down.

"Sam's back at the Roadhouse with Max and Ash," Dean told her. "And Diana. We got a dog."

Ellen grunted her approval. "Good for you guys."

"We brought supplies with us," he added. "Got it into the storage closet. Enough food and water to last us a while. Two weeks, maybe, with the six of us…. Hey, is that Riley Street?"

Ellen squinted out into the darkness and nodded. "I think so."

"That's it," Mia spoke up quickly. "Fourth house on the left. It's green."

Dean made the turn off of the main road, going down to the house and pulling into the driveway. Mia instantly took off her seatbelt and made to unlock and open the door, but Jo stopped her with a sharp, "Mia. Wait."

"Let me go check it out," Dean said, looking back to the young girl. "Make sure your dad's home." Mia swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

Dean got out of the car, locking his door before he shut it, his eyes peeled for any movement as he took out his flashlight and lit his path to the front door of the house. It looked empty, but every other house on the street did as well. He rang the doorbell before pounding on the door a couple times. "Mr. Thompson? My name's Dean. I'm with Mia." There was a short pause before there was a frantic shuffling behind the door and the locks were undone, leaving only the chain to stop the door from fully opening.

The four inches revealed a slightly disheveled man, eyes wide and suspicious. "Who are you?" he asked breathlessly.

"My name's Dean. You're Will Thompson?"

"Yes. You said you're with Mia?" he asked urgently. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"Mia's fine. She and your wife were in a car accident. Your wife didn't make it," Dean told him quietly. The man's face went slack in shock and his mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something. "I wanted to make sure you were home and it was safe before she got out of the car."

Will's eyes started to tear and he quickly slammed the door shut, taking the chain off of it and yanking it back open, bolting past Dean and over to the Impala. "Mia!" he cried.

The young girl hurriedly unlocked the car door and leapt out, darting into her father's arms. "Daddy," she sobbed.

"Oh God," Will breathed, holding her tightly. "Oh thank God you're safe."

"Mommy's gone," Mia whimpered as she wept. "She's gone."

"I'm here, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. He took in and let out a shaky breath. "I'm here. You're safe. You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay."


End file.
